


The Night Before

by trick-please (EveJobs)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Hangover, M/M, Memory Loss, Modern AU, bad life choices, the day after
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-08 10:15:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7753735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveJobs/pseuds/trick-please
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Good morning, sunshine” were probably the last words he wanted to hear in this situation and it was at this point that Alex made the conscious decision to start freaking the fuck out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Alexander opened his eyes and immediately regretted it.

Stark daylight was shining through the open window and directly into his face. His eyelids burned even as he quickly shut them again, the searing rays pounding against his skull in rhythm with his heartbeat. Burying his face in the pillow for protection, he fisted his hands into the mattress, trying to stop the bed from slowly spinning in circles underneath him. A wave of nausea rolled in his stomach.

This wasn’t his bed.

It was a fucking _waterbed_.

 _Who the fuck even owns one of these things_ , he thought, frantically trying to get his alcohol-impaired brain working again. Faint memories of a bar, shots, _way too many shots, what the hell was I thinking_? And whose bed had he ended up in? Certainly none of his friends would ever waste money on this kind of hell contraption. Right?

Alex groaned as the bed wobbled with his movements, every cell in his body screaming _fuck no_. Determined not to spend another second on the nausea-inducing piece of furniture, he began rolling himself to the right. It was only then that he noticed the presence of another body next to him.

Shit.

He cracked his eyes open carefully. Lucky for him, his new position put a barrier between his retinas and the painful sunlight. Unlucky for him, that barrier happened to be a very familiar head of curly hair.

It took every last bit of his self-restraint for Alex to not throw up right then and there.

_Jefferson?_

Suddenly he remembered. Not everything, no, but bits and pieces of the night before started flashing before his eyes.

Jefferson sauntering into the bar like he owned the place. Both of them too stubborn to leave, shooting glares at each other from their respective corners. Angelica getting fed up with Alexander’s aggressive pretend-enjoyment and convincing everyone to change venues.

And they did. They _left_. So why was he remembering big, strong hands pushing him up against the corridor wall, those curls tickling his cheeks as Jefferson whispered filthy words into his ear, fingers raking through his hair and pulling as he- did he…? He couldn’t recall anything after that moment. It was as if his mind was pushing against a black wall of nothingness, a feeling of shame curling in his gut.

He had to get out of here.

As he tried, and promptly failed spectacularly, to turn around and move off the bed without causing a goddamn shockwave, he could feel Jefferson stir beside him. Alex froze in horror as his nemesis threw an arm over the side of his body, pulling him in and draping himself along his backside like a blanket. Jefferson’s nose tickled the back of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Good morning, sunshine” were probably the last words he wanted to hear in this situation and it was at this point that Alex made the conscious decision to start freaking the fuck out.

“What the fuck!” he yelled eloquently, thrashing and flailing his arms in order to shove himself away from Jefferson, hopefully out of the bed and out of this weird Twilight Zone reality where it was apparently possible for Thomas fucking Jefferson to look at him like… like _that_. With actual concern in his eyes and everything.

“Hey hey, calm down man” the strange Alterna-Jefferson said, soothingly, motherfucking _soothingly_ , still looking at him with that unfamiliar softness around his eyes and it was so distracting that Alex promptly fell out of the bed and flat onto his ass.

“Oh shit, are you okay?” Jefferson called after him and that was _it_.

“I have to leave,” he blurted out, ignoring the question, clambering to get up on his feet and make for the door.

Frantically picking up pieces of clothing that were distributed randomly across the bedroom floor (and boy did he not want to think about how that happened), Alex let loose one of his trademark Hamilton Rambles, anything to keep Jefferson from saying something weird or… _nice_.

“Okay look, I’m going to go _home_ and take a _shower_ and then I’ll just- look, I think we can both agree that, whatever _happened_ here” – He made some vague hand gestures – “should never, _ever_ , leave this room and in fact I’m going to do my best to erase the whole thing from my memory, or well, the parts that I remember anyway, and I suggest you do the same. Hold up, what _do_ you even remem- actually forget it, I don’t wanna know!”

Their eyes met for a moment, as Alex struggled to shimmy into his jeans, feeling awkward and exposed. Jefferson opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, then closed it again. The look on his face was completely inscrutable. A beat passed and something about Jefferson’s eyes changed, an added intensity that threatened to suck him in like quicksand.

Alex broke himself away from the magnetic gaze by pulling last night’s shirt over his head. It smelled like sweat and regrets, but the sensation was still more pleasant than whatever had just happened to the atmosphere of the room. He turned around to leave without looking back again, determined not to get pulled into whatever Jefferson’s game was.

“Hamilton.”

“What?” Alex snapped, turning on his heel. Failed step one.

“I remember everything.”

And there it was, that fucking smirk that Alex hated with every fiber of his being and thank _god_ , honestly, because this was _familiar_ , he could work with this.

“Well good for you,” he spat back, “I hope those memories keep you warm at night for a long time. Bye!”

“What, you’re not staying for round two?” Jefferson waggled his eyebrows, the bastard. “You seemed pretty eager last night, dropping to your knees like that, never knew you had it in you…”

“ _Fuck you_ , Jefferson!”

“Fuck _me_? Now that’s a different tune than you sang last night,” he singsonged, leaning back on his elbows, languidly stretched out on the bed. God, how Alex hated him. His blood was boiling.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re enjoying this! How long have you been waiting for this chance, to catch me in a moment of weakness, and for what? Just to humiliate me?” He stepped closer as he talked, his knees almost hitting the foot of the bed. “But I’m pretty sure you don’t want people to know about this anymore than I do, so you’re going to keep your mouth shut just like I will!”

With that he made to storm off, but stopped himself in the doorway.

“And there will _not_ be a round two! Not now, not ever! You get me?”

Jefferson put his hands up in mock defense. “Whatever you say, Hamilton. It’s your loss.”

Alex just growled in frustration and left the room, unwilling to dignify Jefferson with a response.

“Don’t forget your jacket!” the prick called after him and goddamnit, the jacket was back in the room, wasn’t it.

He stomped back to grab it, taking the time to shoot one last death glare in Jefferson’s direction before storming off again, for good this time.

Alex left the apartment accompanied by a steady chorus of _fuck fuck fuck shit fucking fuck_ in his head, all the way down the elevator, getting louder by the second until he felt about ready to explode, which he promptly accomplished by puking his guts out on the sidewalk the instant he stepped out of the building.

Kneeling like that on the cold hard ground, strangers walking by and giving him either pitiful or disgusted looks, Alexander Hamilton took a moment to think back on his life and try to determine if he had reached his lowest point yet. For better or worse, he decided that it didn’t even come close.

He got back on his feet and hailed a cab.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first Hamilton fic! Man, writing these dorks is fun. I have a whole outline written for this already, so stay tuned for more chapters.
> 
> Do leave a comment if you liked it, I'm pretty nervous about writing for this fandom so it would be greatly appreciated (and will motivate me to write faster, so hey, we're both getting something out of it)!
> 
> Rated for later chapters.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex contemplates the consequences of his actions. Angelica has some news.

Alexander pressed his face against the shower tiles, sighing with pleasure as the hot rivulets of water ran over him, taking off the grime of last night layer by layer until his skin was clean and stung red from the heat.

Supported by the wall like this was the only way he could bare to stand, his legs weak and shaking from sleep deprivation and the poison that was still left running through his veins.

As the hot stream cleared away some of the fog in his head, he started assessing the damage to his body. A few mysterious bruises were distributed along random parts of his extremities – left elbow, right knee, both of his shins, and a particularly nasty looking blue blotch on his right hip – but these were probably just the result of his drunken clumsiness and general tendency to bruise easily. His left shoulder bared a more conspicuous mark – a large purple oval rimmed by a distinct bite indentation. If ever a bruise was meant to claim somebody, this was surely it.

Alex groaned as he ran his thumb over the swelling flesh. At least Jefferson had been considerate enough to put his mark below the collar-line. His whole body protested at every single movement, his joints stiff and weak, feeling wrecked to his core, but not in the way he would have expected. Whatever had happened last night, penetration had apparently been off the table. A small victory, Alex decided.

His throat, on the other hand, had definitely taken some abuse, which seemed to corroborate Jefferson’s earlier comment.

Alex winced, remembering his hazy recollection of long fingers raking through his hair, on his knees in front of Jefferson, looking up as he- no no no, time to ban that mental imagine from his head forever, but it was too late as he could feel his dick gaining interest, already half hard. Shit.

The thing is, it’s not like Alex is blind or something. Of course he’d noticed that Jefferson was attractive.

And yes, maybe there had been a few incidents at work when he had to take some time in a bathroom stall, angrily rubbing one out after a particularly heated debate in the courtroom, or on those days he met Jefferson in the elevator, wearing those tight pants that didn’t leave much to the imagination. Maybe this happened more often than Alex cared to admit.

Only now he didn’t exactly need to use his imagination anymore. If only he could jog his memory and actually remember what it looked like, what it _felt_ like, and now it was definitely too late to abort this train of thought because his hand had already magically found its way around his hardening cock, squeezing himself tightly, moaning against the shower wall. And it really shouldn’t have been this easy, he should have been horrified at the mere thought of going to his knees, to _submit_ to that annoying prick, but that didn’t stop his dick from twitching in his hand, didn’t stop his other hand from wandering up into his hair, recreating a barely remembered feeling, pulling on his scalp, didn’t stop him from coming mere seconds later with a shuddering groan and spilling himself down the shower drain.

\--

Alex left the shower feeling barely cleaner than before. All he wanted to do was sleep for the rest of the weekend, and hopefully suffer another bout of amnesia in the process.

He plopped down on his (nice, normal) bed and took out his phone to connect it to the charger on his nightstand. There were several new messages.

 **Ange (1:26am):** You get home ok hun?  
 **Ange (1:29am):** I’m just gonna assume ur asleep and didn’t get kidnapped on the way home  
 **Ange (1:30am):** For the record I’m still pissed at u  
 **Ange (1:35am):** Txt me when ur awake?

Alex sighed. Getting on Angelica’s bad side might be considered an even worse misstep than sleeping with his enemy.

 **Alex (11:07am):** im fine. sorry for acting like an asshole last night

 **Ange (11:08am):** Jsyk ur buying my lunch for the next week

 **Alex (11:08am):** thats fair. sorry again.

For a second, he considered actually telling her about what happened. But no. The less people that knew about it, the easier it would be to pretend the whole thing never happened. He could only hope that Jefferson would keep a tight lid on his side as well, otherwise Angelica might find out anyways. He would never understand how she could be friends with that guy.

Speaking of Jefferson, there was one more unread message on his phone.

 **Asshole (10:45am):** See you Monday, babe 

Alex clenched his hand, resisting the urge to throw his phone across the room. His screen was already cracked from the last time he did that.

Of course that jerk had to make sure to rub it in one last time, like he somehow knew what Alex had just done in the shower. He wasn’t sure if he was more pissed at Jefferson, or at himself for fantasizing about him. No, definitely Jefferson. Fuck that guy.

He started typing angrily.

 **Alex (11:10am):**   get a new bed, jackass

Send.

Wait.

_Oh shit no that sounded a lot like innuendo, didn’t it, how do you keep a text from sending, fuck-_

Delivered.

Alex slammed the shutdown button and then slid the phone across the floor away from him like a ticking time-bomb.

Time to sleep and deal with that never.

\--

After spending most of the weekend recovering from his hangover – seriously why did he have to get blackout drunk like that, he was getting way too old for this shit – Alex felt at least somewhat back to normal form when he clocked in at S&P on Monday.

He’d even made sure to arrive early in hopes of avoiding running into Jefferson in the elevator. Whoever thought it was a good idea to rent out space not only in the same building, but on the same fucking floor as their (richer, more prestigious) competition could eat an entire truckload of cat litter as far as Alex was concerned.

DD&J had been robbing clients from under their noses for the better part of a decade now. Alex kept trying to convince his boss to pursue more aggressive ways of competing with them, but, well. Philip Schuyler was a good man. Maybe a little too good for this business. As grateful as he was for the chance to work there – and he really was, especially after the breakup – Alex secretly longed for the day when Schuyler would step down and let Angelica take over the firm.

His plans to make it into his office unseen were quickly thwarted when the future heiress herself appeared out of nowhere to grab his arm with a sternly muttered “You need to come with me immediately”.

Knowing he was still on thin ice on account of the stunt he (presumably) pulled on Friday, Alex let himself be whisked away without complaint.

“Close the door,” Angelica said after they stepped into her office, her voice tight. Alex complied nervously – did she know something? Did Jefferson tell her after all? He started fidgeting with his hands, his eyes flitting around the room for something to focus on.

“Have you talked to Aaron recently?”

“Aaron?” he asked, puzzled. Oh. Of course it was just work-related. Stupid.

“No, I don’t think so,” he added.

Angelica sighed, looking like someone about to tell him his house burned down.

“He got a job offer. From DD&J. He’s leaving in three months.”

“ _What_?”

“Alex-“

He was fuming.

“That son of a- I’m gonna-“ Alex turned around to leave but was cut off as Angelica somehow magically appeared between him and the door, holding it shut.

“Alex, _please_ , this isn’t the time for one of your temper tantrums! Sit down.” She had never looked so tired.

The anger in his chest faltered. Way to be an obnoxious asshole again. Angelica didn’t deserve this, save it for Burr. He apologized and took his seat.

“Thank you.” Angelica sat down at her desk across from him, hands folded on the table. Alex wondered how she managed to stay so calm in light of this terrible news. Angelica hat always been better at keeping her cool, staying diplomatic – the mere fact that she somehow kept up her friendship with Jefferson was proof of that.

“So here’s the deal. You can be mad at Aaron all you like, but that doesn’t change the fact the he’s still working for us the next three months, and we have to make them count. Losing Aaron is bad, but losing Charles Lee? That could literally ruin us.”

“Wait, so you’re _not_ pulling him from the Lee case? You’re kidding.”

Angelica gave him a pained look. “Would that I could. But Aaron is still our only reliable connection to Lee. He’s the one who brought him in, and he’s been working the case single-handedly ever since. You know how he gets. I mean hell, even dad has only met the guy twice, I think. Which was fine until, you know.”

Alex put his head in his hands. “Jesus Christ.”

“I know. But this is where you come in. For the time being, Aaron’s resignation will remain a secret from the client. He’ll continue to be Lee’s primary contact, but you will work the case with him. Study it as best you can, and when the moment is right, you will be introduced to Lee as, let’s say, an emergency backup. Ease him into the change gently, get to know him, charm him – you know the works. Then hopefully when Aaron leaves, we’ll be able to keep Lee’s business. This will be your top priority from now on, okay?”

Alex rubbed his thumbs over his eyes, squeezing a little too tightly. “It’s way too early for this kind of bullshit, Ange. I haven’t even had coffee!”

“ _Alex_.”

“Okay, okay!” He put his hands up. “I will play nice. But how do I know that Burr won’t just completely fuck us over and try to keep the client to himself?”

“Well, you don’t. Frankly, I’d be surprised if he didn’t try something like that. You know he’s-“

“A scheming bastard? Traitorous snake?” Alex supplied.

Angelica cracked a smile despite herself. “These are ways in which some people might describe him, yes. But he’s also one of our best lawyers. You know this. And as long as he’s still with us, he will at least _appear_ to play fair. He’s got a reputation to uphold, and he doesn’t want to lose Lee any more than we do.”

Alex sighed. Angelica was right, of course. He felt a sudden pang in his chest, a feeling he needed to verbalize.

“Ange, does this mean we won’t be a team anymore? How am I supposed to live like that?” He raised his hands to the sky in an overdramatic gesture.

Her expression softened. “Hey, I’m sure you’ll do fine. You and Aaron actually make a good team, once you get over yourselves and work together. I mean hell, you gave everyone a run for their money with that Seabury case, even I have to admit I got a little jealous.”

“Angelica, please. You know there’s no one who could ever replace you in my heart. Team Mayhem forever, baby.” He stretched his hand out to her.

Angelica went along with it, smacked their palms together, their fingers crooked against each other, holding, then snapping apart again. “You know it,” she giggled as they both made exploding motions and noises. As far as secret handshakes went, it was a pretty silly one, but there was comfort in that.

“Now get your coffee and try to look a little less like you were just raised from the dead, okay hun?”

“Wow, thanks a lot Ange,” Alex said, getting up from his chair.

“Long weekend?” She winked.

“You tell me.” He gave a pained smile. “I’m a little fuzzy on the details.”

“That bad huh? I guess I’m not surprised, don’t think I’ve ever seen you that smashed before.” She narrowed her eyes, looking concerned, and fuck if it didn’t make Alex feel like shit for making her worry. “You really gotta work out your issues with Thomas you know. I’ve got half a mind to just lock you two in a room together until you make nice and stop behaving like babies around each other.”

“ _Thomas_ can kiss my ass!” Alex snapped. Angelica raised an eyebrow at him. Shit, bad choice of words, just think before you speak for once in your life, idiot.

He sighed.

“What I _meant_ to say,” he said, more calmly, “is that I’m sorry for dragging you into our, feud or whatever it is, and I will make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

Angelica rolled her eyes ever so subtly. “That’s not really what I asked you for, but I’ll take it. Now go, I have work to do.”

“Yes Ma’am,” he said, walking out of the door.

“Talk to Aaron!” Angelica shouted after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: Alex has to make at least one Freudian slip in every single conversation he’s in. It’s a law of nature.
> 
> Boy, this sure turned into a whole thing. Sorry for the lack of Jefferson in this chapter, I promise he'll be back in full force in the next installment. Oh and please keep in mind that I know jack shit about American law, so please don't look too closely at the stuff I'm making up here.
> 
> Talk to me on my [tumblr](http://trick-please.tumblr.com/), I get lonely.
> 
> Comments are appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex makes a choice.

Alex leaned on the printer as it buzzed underneath him churning out page after page. The conversation with Burr had gone about as well as expected. Burr had smiled and pretended to be delighted at the prospect of working together, and Alex had congratulated him on his new job while narrowly avoiding the word “traitor”. Still bound by the boss’s orders, Burr had graciously agreed to send Alex some case files to look into, then shooed him out of the office after a nervous glance at his watch, as if he was waiting for someone he didn’t want Alex to meet. Probably already scheming behind his back.

Alex scrolled through his phone absentmindedly. He deleted some spam mail and an annoying newsletter from some Anime news site he’d signed up for about a decade ago that was somehow still operating. He’d tried unsubscribing but he couldn’t remember his password, and the reset email would never arrive, probably because he’d changed email providers at least twice in the last ten years and it got lost in one of the many inaccessible spam folders along the forwarding chain. It just figured that the newsletters would still arrive at his current address just fine. He could probably get Herc to fix it, but he wasn’t quite desperate enough yet to subject himself to that level of embarrassment.

His finger hovered over the messages app. The stupid text to Jefferson was still there, still unanswered, he knew that, but couldn’t keep himself from checking. Why hadn’t he answered? Alex had given him the most perfect setup, yet he was failing to deliver the punchline. It was driving him crazy. Was it some kind of power play? Did he simply not care? Whatever the reason was, it made Alex feel awkward enough to consider buying a one-way ticket to Nevis and go back to working as a clerk for the rest of his life.

The printer was still going. Alex pocketed his phone and started checking out the contents of a nearby shelf. The room was tiny and stocked to the brim with all kinds of office paraphernalia, pens, legal pads, coffee cups with the old “Schuyler & Partners” logo, address books that had been collecting dust for years and, inexplicably, a huge box of Lego bricks.

Alex decided to filch some pens and a legal pad to use at home. He liked writing things down on paper, keeping notes, it helped him draw out his thoughts, memorize things. Digital writing felt too impermanent. He felt vaguely guilty about printing out the entire 150-page case file Burr had sent him, knew it was wasteful, but at the end of the day he needed to do his job effectively and this was the method that worked for him. Maybe he’d plant a few trees to make up for it at some point of his life.

Alex spun one of the pens around between his fingers when the door suddenly opened, causing him to fumble and drop it. Jefferson. Alex reflexively moved to hide the pens he’d stuffed in his pocket for a second, then realized that Jefferson didn’t even work here and could probably care less about him stealing office supplies, and that there were other, more pressing things to feel anxious about.

They both stood there in an awkward stalemate for a moment. Alex broke the silence.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He tried to back away from Jefferson, but the printer was still right behind him. The room seemed to get even smaller in his presence.

“Why, Alexander,” Jefferson said, ignoring the way Alex winced at the use of his first name. He closed the door behind him, smiling as if he was supposed to be here and Alex was the one trespassing, “I think it’s pretty obvious I’m here to use the printer.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “What, you don’t have one at _PB &J_? You guys get your unpaid interns to transcribe everything for you by hand or something?”

Jefferson chuckled. “Believe it or not, but I’m here for a friend.”

Burr. It had to be Burr, but Alex didn’t want to acknowledge that, didn’t want to give Jefferson the opportunity to gloat over yet another hostile takeover, so he just retorted, “Well I’m flattered, but we’re not friends.”

“That so?” Jefferson was crowding him. Alex hated how that made him breathe a little harder, hated how his brain informed him that they were alone in this tiny room and that it was almost time for lunch break, which meant that the chances of someone disturbing them were very slim.

“Yeah. And I’m afraid I’m still using this printer, so. Tough for you.” It didn’t sound anywhere near as biting as he’d hoped. Jefferson’s eyes were glinting, and Alex knew the fucker was seeing right through him, could probably read his mind and knew that he’d jerked off to him at least twice over the weekend – three times if he was being honest – and you know what, fuck it.

Jefferson opened his mouth to say something but Alex closed the distance and shut him up. Jefferson actually seemed surprised, his eyes shooting wide open. Alex internally high-fived himself.

It didn’t take long for Jefferson to recover though, and Alex soon found himself pushed up against the printer with Jefferson’s full weight against him, snaking both of his hands under his ass to lift him up without ever breaking the kiss, and that really shouldn’t have been as hot as it was. Alex held onto his shoulders and pulled him closer, one hand travelling up to his neck. Jefferson settled between his legs, one of his hands still tucked under Alex’s ass and groping, while the other started roaming underneath his t-shirt and up his side. It tickled and Alex couldn’t contain the giggle that escaped him. His face was burning with the ridiculousness of it all. What was he, some teenager skipping class to secretly make out with his crush? “This what you mean by using the printer?” Jefferson asked, his nose brushing against his ear, followed by lips, then teeth.

“I hate you,” Alex said, as if to prove a point.

“Well, that’s not very nice,” Jefferson scolded, his hand travelling to Alex’s inner thigh and squeezing. Alex sucked in a breath. “I know you can do better, you begged so pretty the last time…”

Jefferson started rubbing slow circles into his thigh, spreading his legs apart even more as his hand travelled upwards. Alex bit back a moan, feeling overwhelmed and frustrated at the same time.

“Oh my god, will you stop talking about shit I can’t remember?” he grit out through his teeth, staring up at the ceiling. “Maybe try to be a little more memorable this time, huh?”

Jefferson clicked his tongue, let his palm glide all the way up to Alex’s crotch and squeezed, eliciting an embarrassingly high-pitched yelp. His expression went smug when Alex thrust up into the touch. “Your dick seems to remember me just fine,” Jefferson drawled. And that didn’t even make sense, but somehow the intense spike of hatred Alex felt translated directly into arousal because his brain was wired wrong and he was doomed to a lifetime of bad decisions.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he whined as Jefferson traced the outline of his erection through his pants. He moved to undo his belt but Jefferson stopped him by gripping his wrists.

“Not now,” he said, taking a step back. “I’ve got someplace to be.”

“What?” Alex couldn’t believe his ears. “No. No! Don’t you dare leave right now!”

But Jefferson had already retreated halfway out the door, shooting him a look that could have passed for apologetic if it hadn’t been for the little twinkle of Schadenfreude in his eyes. “See you around, Hamilton.”

Alex shouted one last “I hate you!” after him for good measure but the door had already closed, so he was left sitting there alone and hard and flustered. At least the printer had finished. He climbed off it and sunk to the floor, squirming at the uncomfortable tightness in his pants. Yeah, that was not going to go away by itself. At least there were tissues in the supply closet.

He was two seconds into a very dissatisfying orgasm when his phone vibrated. Several messages on his lock screen.

**Asshole (12:09pm):** Come by my office at 6

**Ange (12:00pm):** U flaking on me already? :/  
**Ange (11:55am):** Going for lunch, where r u?

Alex purposefully ignored Jefferson’s text and swiped Angelica’s instead.

\--

“I really appreciate your help with this, Alexander,” Burr said as he dropped a huge stack of files on Alex’s desk after lunch. “Finding a useful precedent for this case has been near impossible. Can you believe that most of these old case files haven’t even been scanned?”

“I can’t believe it,” Alex answered flatly.

“I’ve barely had the time to even look at them. Lee has been demanding a _lot_ of personal consulting time. Don’t tell anyone I said this but,” – Burr leaned in conspiratorially, dropping his voice – “it’s honestly kind of draining. That man does not know when to stop talking.”

Alex was fairly certain that Burr had said the same thing about him only a few weeks ago. He bit back a comment about how awful it must be to have to go golfing with your client every week instead of doing tedious document review, settling for some agreeable noises instead. Burr was probably trying to get a rise out of him, but Alex was feeling uncharacteristically not up for it. He just wanted Burr to leave and wallow in self-pity for a while.

If Burr was disappointed, he hid it well.

“Anyways I’m sure you’ll find these helpful. We both know you’ve always been better at this kind of work.” – _What, reading?_ Alex thought but didn’t say – “Just tell me as soon as you find something, Lee is getting very impatient.”

“I’ll let you know, _Aaron_ ,” Alex smiled, putting some venom into the name. Everyone was technically on a first-name basis at S&P, but with Burr it had always felt wrong. Old habits die hard after all.

Alex collapsed onto his desk the moment Burr walked out of his sight. The day was just getting worse and worse.

**Alex:** save me  
**Alex:** im surrounded by assholes :(

**Laf:** ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

**Alex:** y do i even try with u

**Laf:** Ami  
**Laf:** You do réalise its already 8 over hère ans i am therefore  
**Laf:** How do you say  
**Laf:** Smashes off m’y face

**Alex:** yes that is exactly how you say that

**Laf:** I knew it :^)  
**Laf:** Tell me your sorties Hammie  
**Laf:** *worries damn french autocorrect

Alex hesitated for a moment. Why did he have to share so many of his friends with Jefferson? It was making things very difficult.

**Alex:** laf i need someone to talk me out of something  
**Alex:** but i cant tell you what it is

**Laf:** <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZXsQAXx_ao0>

**Alex:** i honestly dont know what i expected

**Laf:** AlexANDRE  
**Laf:** Mon coeur  
**Laf:** Mon petit lion

**Alex:** what

**Laf:** If you wanted someone to talk you oui of it you would havé asked Angelica

**Alex:** …  
**Alex:** fuk ur right

**Laf:** Follow your  <3

**Alex:** wtf  
**Alex:** how do you manage to be so cheesy and such an asshole at the same time  
**Alex:** cheesy asshole

**Laf:** ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

**Alex:** sTOP

**Laf:** You Canet stop the Truro  
**Laf:** *truth fuck merde

**Alex:** just change ur keyboard already its not that hard

**Laf:** But its mire fun thaïs way :^)

**Alex:** touché

\--

In the end it all came down to one thing, Alex mused as he skimmed over a paragraph for the seventh time without actually reading it. He’d spent most of the afternoon coming up with reasons to stand up Jefferson, but there was one immutable fact he kept circling back to: He couldn’t unsuck Jefferson’s dick. Even if he didn’t remember it, the deed was done. The threshold had been crossed.

And honestly, why should that jerk be the only one who got to have memories of it? It was unfair, that’s what it was, and Alex just wouldn’t stand for it. Really, he would just be taking back the memories that were rightfully his.

Alex opened Jefferson’s message but didn’t reply. _Chew on that read notification, motherfucker_.

\--

Walking through the gilded doors of DD&J felt like walking into a different dimension. The doors were not actually gilded, but Alex thought they might as well be. It was staggering how different two offices on the same floor of the same building could look. Alex was used to too-bright halogen lamps and crisp white walls adorned with the odd abstract painting, supposedly hung there to create an air of sophistication, but succeeding mostly in making the place feel like a particularly fancy dental clinic.

In stark contrast, the entrance area he’d just entered seemed to somehow be made entirely of mahogany, illuminated by a muted golden glow emanating from an unseen light source. It made him feel warm and welcomed and he absolutely hated it.

The desk clerk smiled at Alex with perfect teeth and a perfect haircut that made him all too conscious of the strand of hair that had loosened itself from his ponytail and was plastered messily across the side of his face. He hadn’t been bothered enough to cut his hair for months and it was starting to look just this side of unprofessional.

Alex put his hands together and pinched the underside of his wrist, straining to smile at the clerk and keep his voice level asking for directions to Jefferson’s office. He even managed not to run away screaming when the clerk met his inquiry with polite confusion, asking him if he had an appointment while looking pointedly at the clock. Right. People didn’t usually come in this late. Not clients, anyway.

He smiled all the way through an excruciating phone call, his nails digging into his skin, eyes going dry from the frozen mask of politeness. The clerk hung up and immediately started apologizing profusely, pointing Alex into the right direction and even offering to walk him there. Alex declined but couldn’t help the little triumphant smirk that crawled on his face. _Why yes thank you, I am indeed a very important client to meet with one of the partners at this time of day._ Nice to be treated like royalty on the way to a booty call, like some kind of reverse walk of shame. Luckily enough there was no one in the hallway to recognize him and destroy the façade.

Alex came up to the door that said THOMAS JEFFERSON in big, actually gilded letters.

He could still go back.

_Follow your <3, _he thought, and snorted. Yeah, right.

He knocked on the door like it was Beethoven’s 5th.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun-dun-dun-duuuuuuun (couldn't resist that one, sorry)
> 
> Really I should have just called this Alexander Hamilton is a Mess™ - the fic
> 
> You might have noticed the chapter count increasing from 8 to 15. The reason is that I am also a Mess™ and I have no self control.
> 
> As always, I appreciate comments and would like to gently point you to my [Tumblr](http://trick-please.tumblr.com). Talk to me about Jamilton or make fun of my extreme thirst for all the Hamilton cast members, idk. Ask box is always open.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's a smut chapter idk

“You’re late.”

Jefferson swiveled around in his chair like he’d invented it. For a hot second, Alex tried to picture him bald and stroking a white-haired kitten, but his brain already shorted out at the ‘bald’ part. Unthinkable.

“Lock the door,” Jefferson commanded, his voice cold.

Alex did so, trying to ignore the nervous flutter in his stomach as the lock clicked. Jefferson rested his elbows on his gigantic desk, his hands folded under his chin, looking at Alex through eyes like icebergs. Something hiding under the surface. The office was spacious and well lit, large windows behind Jefferson’s back, the sun reflecting off the building across the street, like an interrogation lamp directed at Alex’s face. He suddenly found himself missing the cramped heat of the printer room.

“Nice office,” he said, mostly because he felt the need to say something. “If I’d known you had a couch I would have come here sooner, that could have saved me some very uncomfortable nights trying to sleep in my chair.”

Jefferson raised his eyebrows, but didn’t make any other indication of movement. _What does he expect me to do, just walk over there and sit under the desk?_ Alex thought. Not that he was entirely opposed to the idea.

“You’re welcome to try it out,” Jefferson said dryly.

“And then what? Are you gonna start asking me questions about my mother or something?”

Jefferson chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “Okay, as cute as your whole Freudian unawareness thing is, I’m not sure this is working for me.”

“What do you mean?” Alex asked, the word _cute_ bouncing around in his head. Meant as an insult, obviously.

“What I mean is that you need to make up your mind. First you tell me this is never gonna happen again, then you literally start macking on me after 10 seconds the next time we meet, basically begging me to fuck you in that dirty little closet, _then_ you ignore my texts all day and make me wait for you,” Jefferson said, making a point to count each of Alex’s offences on his fingers. “I don’t have the patience for this hot and cold shit. So if you’re just gonna keep wasting my time, you better tell me right now and go.”

Alex was taken aback. He didn’t think Jefferson called him here to _talk_ about this. He wasn’t even sure what _this_ was. “Well I’m here, aren’t I? What do you want me to do?”

Jefferson cocked one of his eyebrows, putting his hands behind his head. “Convince me.”

“What is this, a job interview?” Alex laughed nervously, but then a thought occurred to him, and because he couldn’t resist being an asshole, he added, “wait, is this how Burr got the position? Is he sucking your dick and I’m just here for sloppy seconds? Oh my god, is that what you had to run off to earlier?”

Jefferson’s face went from cocky to annoyed in a split second. “Are you serious? Get the fuck out.” He pointed to the door.

Alex felt like an ice pack had been dropped into his stomach. This wasn’t going how he’d pictured it at all. He couldn’t mess this up, not after he’d already humiliated himself by showing up in the first place. “Wait. Okay, that was uncalled for. I just,” he licked his lips, considered his options, “I mean, do you want me to beg you or something? Because I’ll do that, I don’t care. If you’re worried about my pride getting in the way here, I can assure you that I already checked that in at the front desk. Just. Please. _I need this_.”

Jefferson pressed his lips together, his eyes flicking up and down Alex’s body, then up at the ceiling. A sigh. “Fine.” He moved, finally, to get out of his chair. Alex almost vibrated out of his skin in anticipation as Jefferson walked around his desk, then leaned back against it. “Get on your knees,” he ordered.

Alex hit the floor so fast it almost gave him whiplash. Jefferson snorted. “Would you look at that. Alexander Hamilton, actually doing what he’s told.” He sounded smug, and Alex thought he should probably feel embarrassed, but he wasn’t. He was the one getting what he wanted here, right?

There was still some space left between them, so Alex had to knee-walk over to where Jefferson was standing. Alex was used to looking up at Jefferson, but from this position he looked even more freakishly tall than usual. He licked his lips.

“Now would be a good time to start with that begging you promised.”

Alex swallowed. He could do this. Hell, according to Jefferson he’d already done this. Not like he could stoop any lower by doing it again.

“Please,” he started, but the rest of the sentence stuck in his throat like badly chewed food. Okay, maybe he was a little embarrassed.

“Please what?” A hand found its way into his hair, fingernails scraping lightly over the nape of his neck. “Use your words, Alexander. I’m told you’re good at that.” And there was that intimate use of his first name again, making his scalp tingle.

“Please let me suck your cock.” Alex was proud of not breaking eye contact while he said it, and he could see Jefferson’s eyes go dark a little. Encouraged by that, he kept talking, said _fuck my face_ and _make me choke on it_ , spurred on by Jefferson biting his lip and tightening his hold on Alex’s neck, seeing the effect of his words manifested in the growing tightness of Jefferson’s dress pants.

“You been thinking about this a lot?” Jefferson asked, his voice lower than usual, a little hoarse.

“ _Fuck_ yes,” Alex admitted freely. He let his hands roam up to Jefferson’s thighs, but stopped there, looked up at him for approval. Jefferson nodded. Alex eagerly undid his belt, his zipper, pulled out his dick, and-

“Wow. Guess I was wrong.”

“Why.”

“Always figured you were compensating for something, what with your whole peacock-asshole-I-wear-purple-suits-to-work-because-I-can shtick, but I guess that’s really just your personality, huh?”

Jefferson rolled his eyes. “Do you have some kind of disorder that requires you to say something obnoxious every five minutes or else you die?”

Instead of answering, Alex curled his hand around Jefferson’s dick and squeezed, relishing the sound of a sharp intake of breath. He wasn’t even fully hard yet, but Alex’s mouth was already watering at the sight. Despite what he’d just said to Jefferson, it actually lived up quite well to his imagination, and his imagination tended to run pretty wild.

Alex licked at the head experimentally, then grinned up at Jefferson. “I could think of one or two ways you could make me shut up for a while,” he teased.

Jefferson was unimpressed. “Just suck my dick already.”

Alex didn’t need to be told twice. He tightened his grip around the base a little and dove in, swallowing him up as deep as he could, hoping to surprise him.

Judging by the choked out gasp he heard it seemed to work.

“Fuck, yeah that’s better. Just like that, keep going, knew that mouth had to be good for som-ohh _god_ ,” Jefferson broke out into a moan as Alex hummed around him, and he would have laughed if his mouth wasn’t full of cock because _of course_ Jefferson was a talker, this was going to be _fun_.

Alex had spent so much time imagining what went down on the night he blacked out that actually reenacting it felt strangely familiar, like coming into his element. He’d always prided himself on being pretty fucking great at sucking dick, and he made sure to pull out all his tricks, tightening his lips into a ring around Jefferson’s cock each time he went down, one of his hands holding him steady while the other came up to play with his balls. Jefferson’s constant string of commentary seemed to turn more lewd and degrading the harder he went at it, which only spurned him on more.

“Knew you were always desperate to get your whore mouth around my dick,” Jefferson said as Alex took him in as deep as he could, staying there for a few seconds and making himself gag on it, relishing the feeling of his jaw stretching and straining, the weight on his tongue. Jefferson groaned, his grip on Alex’s hair tightening. “ _Fuck_ , I bet it’s all you think about when we’re in court together, when you’re running your mouth at me even though you know I’m right, like you’re just begging me to fuck your throat raw until you can’t talk for days. Bet you’d let me do it right there in front of everyone, let the whole courtroom witness what a slut you are for me, let your precious daddy Washington see who you _really_ belong to.”

Under normal circumstances, this kind of accusation would have prompted a furious argument, possibly involving some small objects being thrown around the room, but instead Alex just whined and pulled off, the words “fuck me, _please_ ” tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop himself. He was hard as a rock.

Jefferson gave him a taxing look. He ran his thumb over Alex’s lower lip, wiping away some of the drool that had collected there.

“Nah,” he said, and slapped him across the face.

It wasn’t a hard slap by any means, didn’t even sting, but Alex groaned regardless, his dick twitching in his pants. “Fuck,” he breathed, “do that again.”

“Oh, you giving orders now?” Jefferson scoffed at him.

“Shit, no, I’m sorry,” Alex tried to recover, “ _please_ do that again, I’ll be good I promise, just please _touch me_ -“ Jefferson grabbed him by the chin, effectively silencing him. “Shut your mouth and listen,” he said, lifting Alex’s head so he had to straighten his back to accommodate. “You’re even more of an idiot than I thought if you think I’m gonna give you what you want after all the shit you pulled today. So here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m going to keep using that pretty mouth of yours for the purpose it was made for, and if you behave, I might feel generous enough to give you a tissue to wipe your face with after I come on it. Understand?” He let go of Alex’s chin.

Alex whimpered, shifting uncomfortably. The position he was kneeling in made the crotch of his pants almost painfully tight. He didn’t dare to ask if Jefferson would let him come. Somehow, the thought of being denied turned him on even more. “Understood,” he said.

“Good. Now open up.” Jefferson took his dick in his hand, pressing the head against Alex’s lips. Alex let him slide in, relaxing his jaw, allowing him all the control this time. “And don’t even think about touching yourself. Keep your hands where I can see them,” Jefferson commanded, his own hand wandering to the back of Alex’s head again, holding him in place as he started thrusting into his mouth more deeply. “Actually, you know what? You’re not allowed to get off to this. When you get home later, I want you to think long and hard about the things you want me to do to you, and I want you to keep your hands as far away from your sad little cock as possible. Meet me again tomorrow and maybe I’ll take pity on you.” Alex moaned, and that set Jefferson off, spilling down his throat before pulling out and smearing the rest of it across his lips and cheeks. Alex licked some of it off with his tongue, still dazed with desperate arousal.

Jefferson put himself back in his pants and unceremoniously threw a packet of tissues in Alex’s lap. He stood there watching as Alex cleaned off his face, uncharacteristically quiet. A few ringlets of hair had fallen into his face, his forehead shining with sweat, his shirt untucked, looking oddly vulnerable. His eyes glimmered with some unspoken question. All things considered, the situation was getting more than a little awkward.

“So…” Alex cut through the silence. “Same time tomorrow then?” He got up gingerly, trying to minimize the rubbing of fabric against his still painfully tented crotch. He hoped to god the office was empty by now.

Jefferson regained his composure. “I’ll text you the details. You better answer this time.”

Alex took three cold showers that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I imagine Jefferson’s dick so much it feels more like a memory" – Alexander Hamilton, probably
> 
> Okay this took me way too long to write and I'm still not super happy with it, but I wanna actually finish this story at some point so I'm going to get on with it. 
> 
> Comments are loved, find me on Tumblr etc.
> 
> Oh and I removed the chapter count because I keep changing my outline and it's getting embarrassing. Rest assured I have some semblance of a plan for this, I just suck at deciding on chapter breaks.


End file.
